It's Kind of a Funny Story
by little.twirl
Summary: A rewriting of Twilight with some twists along the way.


Terrible heights. I'm afraid of those.

But I made it my goal that summer to climb up a tree. All my friends and family had told me countless times what a pity it was I'd never done it as a child. Even though I'd already surpassed that age, I thought I could probably still pull it off since I now had more strength in my arms and legs.

There were plenty of trees to choose from, since dad's town was one overwhelming forest, but I wanted to make sure I found the right one. I also wanted to secure my landing, in the eventuality (a very probable one) that I would fall down a couple of times.

It was a silly project, now that I look back on it, but I was willing to do anything to relive my childhood. I'd missed some crucial stages from ages 6 to 10 that I wanted back. I guess I wasn't a big fan of angsty adolescence and its daily humiliations. Also, I owned a lot of posters and coasters with a variation on the words: _Do something you're afraid of every day_. That sort of stirred me up.

And really, if I hadn't carried my old mattress out of the attic into the forest and if I hadn't sacrificed three perfectly good cushions taken from my dad's living room, I wouldn't have met Edward.

Before I could even dream of reaching the top or the canopy of the beech I'd handpicked, there were a few failures along the way; mainly there was the issue of the middle section of the trunk. I couldn't even get that far.

Believe it or not, it took me an entire month to get higher than I would be able to reach if I stretched out my hands.

Since I had nothing to compare it to, I was pleased with my progress. I thought it was sort of an achievement.

Don't worry, I wasn't wasting my life away on a tree, I still did other things that summer, but at around 3 o' clock every afternoon, you could find me in that meadow, sliding up and down the trunk until I felt satisfied with the day's "work".

It was some exercise too, which we all know is annoyingly good for you.

Problem is, no good deed ever goes unpunished.

This is usually how it goes: if you try to do something different, something that only involves you, apart from other people, and it requires some kind of physical effort where you grunt and sweat and make loud noises, chances are others will notice, especially if you live in a small town.

He wasn't always on time, so I knew he wasn't a stalker per se, but once he found me out, he didn't miss a single day.

My plan was to ignore him completely until he eventually got so bored that the image of a scrawny young girl trying to master a helpless beech would no longer sate his curiosity.

But he never approached me to talk or say hi or anything, so I never could put the plan in motion, because he was ignoring me as well.

It seemed like he was waiting for something. He never got very close; he always stood there, at the edge of the meadow, staring in the distance, sometimes at me, sometimes at the sky.

Invariably, he would sit down and continue gazing, but he was always alert. He never seemed to doze off or wander off in his head. Yes, he probably did a lot of thinking on his own, but you couldn't sneak up on him; he was there, present.

I couldn't see him very well from afar, but if I ever got higher than my usual limit, I'd catch the colour of his shirt or maybe his sneakers. He always sat in the shade, which I know sounds a bit silly, but it's true. He never came out in the sun.

I wasn't freaked out yet, because he seemed harmless. He wasn't doing anything to me, was he? Who was I to stop him from coming into the meadow?

Sometimes he only sat there for ten minutes, sometimes an hour, but you never knew how long he'd do it because he just picked up and left whenever he felt like it.

That was fine by me, but other times, he'd stare at me insistently, judging my poor physical skills from a distance and my thick legs in those really old, scruffy shorts and I'd grow self-conscious, which took away from the whole "rekindling my childhood" experience since it forced me to focus on my body.

It wasn't complete discomfort that I was feeling, but I would've been relieved to see him go and never come back. It probably sounds mean now, but I really treasured those moments alone.

Maybe if I'd done something more obscene or absurd, like jacking off naked or stoning rabbits to death he would've eventually been driven away, because nudity and violence do get boring after repeated viewings. But as it was, my innocent activity provided him with an almost 'Hallmark Card'-esque scene. He was probably a sensitive, deep thinker who liked to retreat in the woods for some quiet time and the sight of me, battling nature in its purest forms, was something like an affirmation of his philosophy.

Needless to say, I kept trying to guess his motives.

I'd already decided he was a softie who got bullied at school (he seemed my age either way), who wrote mean poetry in a black notebook, who watched Polanski's filmography on a regular basis and who thought girls were perfect and ethereal and beautiful as long as they didn't have a real existence.

Pretty sketchy, I know, but remember, I was climbing up a tree while these thoughts crossed my mind.

Then one day, probably around the beginning of August, I got closer to the top than I'd ever had. I'd passed the mid-section and was a good way into the third quarter. I was supporting my weight on a couple of lower branches but my deft fingers were already trying to grab onto something I couldn't reach.

Instead of stopping there and admiring my progress, I wanted to go higher, because unlike previous times, I was getting impatient.

Usually, when your goal is so close at hand, you forget that you're not that close, actually.

I stood there, unsure, tired and sweaty between the branches, getting a backache from the stiff position I was in, waiting to muster up the courage to launch myself even further.

...and I was probably going to succeed. I had found a good spot on which to raise my upper body and I was aiming for it with incredibly accuracy, but then I happened to look down.

I don't suffer from vertigo, but that moment when I finally realized how high up I was and how I'd never actually fallen before because I always took excruciating care not to... that moment sealed the deal.

I was already angry at myself, because I could just see it in slow-motion; the idiotic fall of an idiotic teenager who just _had_ to look down, who just had to take that stupid risk.

I'm sure Icarus had a lot more dignity.

In a way, it would have been a great "childhood moment". I mean all kids fell and broke an arm or a leg. If I wanted the full-experience, that was probably it.

But I never got to see what that would've been like, because I never really hit the ground.

Sure, I saw myself slip away from the trunk in horror, I saw my body shaking dizzily and I saw my legs wobbling like two pieces of rubber, but when I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth and then opened my mouth to yell – my solar plexus was already hitting someone's shoulder and I was hanging like a dead weight in someone's open arms.

I was suffering from shock, so even though he gently pulled my head back to check if I was all right, I probably didn't offer any clues. I was just staring into space (much like he would), absent-mindedly, my eyes a total blank. The only sign that I was going through something was my parted mouth.

And then I probably realized I was holding onto a solid thing, because my hands started clawing their way up his back, as if I wanted to know for sure I wouldn't fall, as if there might still be a chance I might break my neck.

And then I screamed. A bit late in the game, I admit, but things started to kick in slowly for me.

I think he hadn't expected for me to scream so he put me down instantly.

To my credit, I didn't collapse immediately; I took a few steps and then I tried kneeling, but it was clear I was going to lose balance pretty soon, so his arms were there again, supporting me as I lay down on the mattress that yes, I realized by now, had been a pretty ludicrous idea from the start. The thing was, I never thought I'd get that high to begin with so I assumed I'd only have gentle falls. I don't know why I never got past this point; I guess I'd gotten so used to my safe routine that I stopped thinking I'd ever change it. So when I was given the chance to move up, naturally, I got too excited and impatient and the rest is history.

"That was pretty ballsy, I guess," was the very first thing he said to me, looking down at my sprawled body as if it were a toy.

"But maybe you should tone it down a little," he added, smiling ruefully.

From up close, he wasn't a sore sight. He was lanky and good-looking in that boyish kind of way and on a better day I might've tried being more graceful, but I couldn't manage that right now.

I noticed he had an impressive amount of gel in his hair which was all tousled and unruly. Egh. Was he trying to pull off a look? If so, I wasn't a fan.

"Thanks for ... uh, saving me. Really...appreciate it," I finally grunted through heavy pants when the silence became too awkward.

"No problem. Glad I was here," he replied, still smiling.

Yeah, you're always here, I was about to say.

"Seriously...thanks a lot. Did I hurt you?"

He seemed surprised, as if the notion was foreign to him.

"Hurt me? No, not at all."

"It couldn't have been pleasant, though..." I remarked, and then I forgot what I was about to say, because something suddenly clicked in my brain.

"Wait. How...how did you get all the way here?" I asked, lifting myself on my elbows.

He quirked up an eyebrow. "Sorry?"

"How did you get all the way here?" I repeated, wiping my forehead.

"What do you mean?"

I rolled my eyes impatiently. "I mean you were all the way there, at the other end of the meadow. There's no way... I mean, do you run really fast or something?"

He shook his head amused. "I guess I'm a pretty good runner, but I didn't have to run. I was walking by."

This sort of flustered me. "No, you weren't. You never walk by. You always sit there, far away. You're always watching."

I was glad I could finally air my frustrations.

The boy's smile faded quickly. "How do you know what I _always_ do?"

"Oh come on. It's not like it's a big secret. We both know you've been coming here for a while and I can't help seeing you. And you're always over there!" I exclaimed exasperated, pointing at the other end of the meadow.

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, I do sit there sometimes. Not always though. I happen to walk around. Is that a crime?"

"No, but –"

"Then what's your point?"

"You don't sit there _sometimes_. You _don't_ walk around," I insisted, trying to get up. "I've never seen you this close. You've never tried to get close."

"All right, jeez!" he exclaimed, surprised at my persistence. "Today I felt like coming over and saying hi or I don't know – I wanted to stretch my legs. I don't remember _why_ I decided to do it. Is this really what's on your mind right now?"

I shook my head.

"Look, I'm not saying I'm not grateful because I am, I really am. I mean, Christ, if you hadn't been here, I might've ended up half-paralyzed. I just can't understand how you got here so fast – he was about to interrupt me, but I didn't let him – because I _saw_ you before I fell, I remember that pretty well, and you _weren't_ walking around, you were all the way over there!"

And once again, I pointed towards his usual spot across the meadow. My constant pointing was probably getting on his nerves, because he suddenly said in an annoyed voice:

"Okay, so, going with your theory here, I what? Teleported myself? Used my super speed powers to get to you?"

"I don't know! I mean – I know it sounds stupid, but I know what I saw. I'm not insane," I protested hotly.

"Says the person who's been doing the same thing over and over hoping to get different results," he quipped, looking at the tree.

"Yeah, well, ditto," I muttered bitterly.

"Um, no, not ditto. I wasn't expecting different results."

"So then, why were you watching me anyway?" I nearly barked at him.

"Ah, I can't tell you that."

My head snapped up so fast that I think I might've pulled a muscle.

"You can't tell me _that_? Seriously? What's – what's stopping you?"

"Well, you wouldn't like it. The real reason," he confessed, a sudden guilty look on his face.

I think at this point I was getting freaked out.

"Are you some sort of...pervert? Are you a voyeur or whatever they're called?"

He laughed like a child. "Nah, no way. Gross. No. I just...can't really tell you. I mean it's personal, but not _that_ kind of personal."

"So it's not an obsession or anything? Not...something weird?"

"Oh, it's not an obsession; I mean it's got nothing to do with you per se. It's only weird from your perspective."

"Then explain it to me," I let out frustrated.

"That's the thing. I can't. Sorry."

I gaped at him, wholly unprepared for this kind of enigmatic behaviour. Of course I had expected to deal with some sensitive soul with a broken spirit and an introverted personality, but this was a bit different. For one, he wasn't shy or anything. Didn't seem all that soft as I imagined, either. And the look on his face said he really couldn't tell me what it was about, not that he was trying to be mysterious on purpose.

"That's it? That's all you're going to say? You've watched me for a full month now and... all I get is a sorry?"

"I would've stopped at one point. Actually, I was going to stop pretty soon. I figured I wouldn't get anything out of it, in the end," he replied, shrugging noncommittally.

"And it took you a whole month to realize watching me wasn't...getting you anything?" I asked nonplussed.

"To put it simply...yeah. If you knew the whole context, you'd understand, but I really can't say anything more. I already told you a lot and I only did it cuz you're so damn nosy. I mean it's not like I started asking you why you started climbing the same tree, did I?"

This much was true, but then again, this was the guy who supposed I was insane.

"So...what now?" I asked, looking up at him. His hair was a big distraction. I felt the urge to dunk his head in water and wash off the gel.

"What now? Well...I guess I'll help you out, if you want. I can drive you back to your house. You need to lie down and rest. Or I could get you to the hospital...?"

He seemed so nonchalant about it that it really puzzled me why he'd bothered in the first place.

I still couldn't get over the fact that I'd seen him several feet away just moments from my fall and the next second he had caught me, but I figured it was my mistake. It had to be.

What other explanation was there?

"My house would be fine," I replied, standing up on my knees, one hand on the ground, trying to get up.

He supported me again and I leant against his chest so I could walk.

He was wearing some kind of anorak over his T-Shirt that I couldn't imagine being very comfortable in warm weather, but when I touched his arm it actually felt cold.

"I'm going to come for these later..." I muttered, staring down at the mattress and cushions.

He nodded his head. "They'll be here."

As we stepped into the sun, he suddenly pulled his hood over his head.

I snorted. "What are you doing?"

"Don't like the sun that much," he explained and his tone seemed serious.

"Really? I thought you were joking."

"Why would it be a joke?" he asked, turning towards me.

"I don't know – I thought you were trying to look cool or something."

"I don't go for that crap. I do stuff because it's got a purpose."

That rang a bit too self-satisfied.

"Is that why you wear so much hair product?"

That seemed to provoke him a little, but he didn't show it.

"My name's Edward, by the way," he said, apparently ignoring my comment.

"Oh, okay. We're doing that then. I'm Bella."

"Bella? As in, Isabella?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Nothing."

I wrinkled my nose. Did he know someone by that name or was he indirectly telling me it was a stupid name?

"So, Bella, where do you live anyway?"

* * *

The drive home was relatively quiet because I kept wondering how this fairly young guy could afford a Volvo in the first place. A silver Volvo too.

I was relatively new in town, but even I knew there weren't any Volvo people here. He couldn't be someone's rich kid, not unless he'd stolen the car from somewhere and driven it across the state all the way to Forks.

When we parked in front of my house, he seemed surprised.

"Oh, you live with the sheriff?"

I chuckled. "Technically. I'm his daughter."

"Charlie Swan has a daughter?" he asked, genuinely taken aback.

"Yeah, he's no looker, I'll admit. And he's a bit grumpy too, but someone did at one point decide to have his baby, so there you go."

Edward turned to me, tilted his head backwards and laughed.

Eerie. It hadn't been that funny, really.

"So, you're probably new around here. That's why I didn't recognize you," he concluded.

"You won't still be there, right?" I suddenly asked, worried.

"If I go back to climbing, you won't come and watch again, will you?"

Edward looked as if he had swollen a whole lemon.

"You make it sound so creepy, but it wasn't like that at all! I wasn't watching you for _you_. Okay? There was another principle involved. I – you can't understand."

That only managed to confuse me more.

"But to answer your question, no, I won't "still be there". Happy?"

"Well, I'm glad you _were_ there today," I quickly said, trying to placate him. "I mean it was a good thing you _were_ watching, after all."

He nodded.

"I hope next time someone else is in danger you'll use your super speed again," I quipped, trying to make a joke.

It backfired.

"That _wasn't_ super speed! I was right next to you, I told you! I was close by!"

"All right, all right, fine! Sheesh, you're a loaded gun, aren't you?"

He shook his head upset.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Edward," I said, offering him my hand as truce.

He stared at it as if it was dangerous weaponry.

"Promise I didn't spit in it," I commented, growing uncomfortable.

"Um, It was nice meeting you too, Bella," he replied awkwardly.

He extended his hand, avoided my own and went for my shoulder instead.

The weirdo patted me gently.

"Okay, well, see you around!" I almost shrieked, getting out of the car at light-speed.

I really wanted to get out of there without any more strange interactions.

He watched me cross the street and walk up the stairs to my door, at which point he gave a small wave and a smile in my direction. I don't think I smiled back. It was more like a grimace. After that, he simply started the engine and drove away, as if that was the norm for him; going around, catching people from falling, driving them to their house in his Volvo and then quietly going back to his cave.

I had no idea if I would be going back to the meadow, but I somehow knew I'd run into him again. It's a small town, after all.

Would he tell anyone?

"Hey, guys, that new girl, the Sheriff's daughter? Total nut job, man. Lucky I was there cuz she was on a suicide mission. No joke."

That would be a cheerful start to my reputation around here, wouldn't it?

High-school too would be a breeze.


End file.
